AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Might Delete Later
The day after the most clichéd breakup ever, I was on my way to work, cruising down Great Highway on my Kawasaki, appreciating the Pacific Ocean on my left and trying not to notice the very fit joggers on my right. I had sworn off love the night before. Sworn off love, looking for love, and possibly dating for the next year. At least. But there were some really nice asses over on the right. I was reconsidering my moratorium on dating—I knew I could keep it casual this time—when I nearly smacked into the back of a Honda hatchback that had come to a stop at the Noriega traffic light.
Who does that?
The lights on Great Highway are timed. If you travel at precisely thirty-two miles per hour—ignoring that it’s posted thirty-five—you will hit every light green from Sloat to Lincoln. Unfortunately, there are tourists who don’t know better and locals who ignore the social conventions and make life difficult for the rest of us, thereby denying us the unmitigated beauty of a perfectly timed promenade down one of San Francisco’s most picturesque byways.
I was just about to flip up the visor on my helmet so I could give the driver of the hatchback a proper death stare to express my ire when I found myself staring at the most perfect face ever. Oh. My. God. Soulful brown eyes. Big, droopy jowls. Floppy ears. And the most beautifully glossy silver-blue gray coat.
It probably goes without saying that I am an absolute sucker for every dog I come across. It’s both a blessing and a curse in my job as a vet tech at a an emergency vet clinic. There are always plenty of dogs to cuddle and love on, plenty of slobbery kisses to receive, and nothing feels better to me than helping to soothe and comfort a dog who’s in pain. Best feeling ever. The downside, of course, is that there’s plenty of heartbreak when all the comfort and medical attention in the world can’t make a bit of difference.
Nope. Not going to go there right now. Not while there was this incredible dog face staring at me out of the back of this car. I knew immediately I had to take a pic for my Insta, so I flipped up my visor and whipped out my phone.
Almost like he knew I was taking his pic, the dog in front of me raised his head a little more and cocked his ears. So fucking cute, I nearly died as I framed the shot and took it. Then I glanced up and saw a pair of human eyes staring at me in the rearview mirror. A pair of very surprised human eyes. A pair of surprised and gorgeous human eyes.
Nope. Not going to go there either, even though my heart was hammering in my chest. Both because hello! gorgeous eyes, but also because, yeah, sometimes people didn’t take kindly to having their dog’s photo taken without permission, and we still had several blocks to go before I could turn off.
Fortunately, the light turned green, and the driver took his foot off the brake, the red lights going dark just before the car pulled away from me. I secured my phone, flipped my visor back in place, and followed after the Honda. The guy kept looking in his rearview mirror, eyes seeming to zero in on mine with every glance.
Shit, Luc, you’ve done it this time, I thought.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t make a smooth getaway because a Lexus pulled even with the Honda, and this person knew enough to maintain their speed, which made the Honda match them. I was trapped and praying we’d hit the light at Lincoln green, but the gods of stoplights were not on my side this morning.
The light turned yellow as we approached. The guy glanced up again and met my gaze as the Honda slowed. My head was full of images of the guy pulling to a stop and storming out of his car to confront me. Would he grab my phone? Smash it to the ground? Punch me?
The Honda was stopping, but miracle of miracles, the Lexus sped up, the driver flooring it into the intersection. Without a second thought, I swung into the right-hand lane and followed after them, taking the turn onto Lincoln a bit faster than I might have wanted to, but my trusty Kawasaki just purred like it was nothing.
Of course, now I was on the wrong side of Golden Gate Park to get to work and had to wind my way through the labyrinth of streets that crisscrossed the green belt, dodging tourists who were out for early sightseeing and failed to realize that some of us had jobs to get to and things to do besides being gobsmacked by the windmills or a bison herd. While living in a world-famous city had its perks, having to deal with awestruck, starry-eyed humans was not one of them. I’m not sure what makes people’s brains take a vacation when they go on one, but trust me, it’s astounding the things tourists do in SF that they would never, in a million years, do back home. I’m also probably in the background of more Facebook posts than I want to contemplate because of all the walking tours of the Castro. Look! Gay people! In their natural habitat! It can get old.
In any event, I made it to the clinic where I worked with only a couple of minutes to spare and none too pleased because that meant I couldn’t grab my coffee and pastry from the bakery down the street. The line was always out the door because they were one of the best bakeries in the city, but my little detour meant I had just enough time to get my bike parked in the alley behind the clinic, secure my helmet, fluff my curly hair, and get my ass inside.
Thank God I rode a motorcycle because parking in SF was a huge PITA, and I’d never have made it on time if I drove a car or had to rely on public transit to get from my place in Pacifica—where I could afford the rent—to my job in Presidio Heights—where I could decidedly not. It would take this boy several sugar daddies to afford one of those mansions, and I wasn’t in the market.
Anyway, the morning was pretty hectic. Working at an emergency clinic means we got everything from seriously injured and ill animals to overflow from the local vets whose schedules were too full to deal with a dog who ate something it shouldn’t have or the kitten someone found in someone’s backyard. Every day, heck, almost every hour, was different, and sometimes the mood in the clinic went from cheerful to somber in the blink of an eye, but I loved my coworkers, and I loved every animal that came through our doors. That’s the main reason I became a vet tech.
Loving dogs was also why I took pictures of all the cute dog faces I encountered. San Francisco is a great dog city—so many dogs of all shapes and sizes and breeds and combinations of breeds. Documenting them was why I had my Insta account and why I’d taken the picture of the dog in the back of the car on my way to work. Because we were so busy, I didn’t get a chance to upload it until my lunch break. My coworker Jace and a quick internet search confirmed that the dog had been a Neapolitan Mastiff. I couldn’t stand how cute the pics of those dogs on Google were. And the puppies! Don’t even get me started. But the dog I’d seen was definitely one of the cutest. Something about that face with its jowls and the way they looked like they were melting right off its face while at the same time the dog’s expression was utterly distinguished, like a proper English butler, just killed me.
Jace watched as I carefully cropped the photo to keep the car’s license plate out of view and agreed with me that it was a really epic dog face.
“I’d love to know the guy who owns it,” I said. “Even though it scared the shit out of me when I thought we were going to get caught at a red light.”
“Did you think he was going to yell at you?”
“No idea. But he kept looking in the rearview mirror at me, so I didn’t want to stick around and find out.”
“Maybe he’ll see your post,” Jace said, “and be really happy and you’ll get to meet him.”
I agreed with her. “And if he’s gay…”
“And available.”
I shook my head, reminded of the previous night. “And also not a total douche nozzle that I catch cheating with my best friend.”
“Oh, honey, no.”
“Sadly, honey, yes. We were supposed to go out to dinner. Paul canceled because he said he wasn’t feeling well, so I got some soup from Wise Sons—you know that great matzo ball soup they make?” A nod from Jace, and I continued. “I walked in on them doing it on the couch while making an amateur porn video.” I covered my eyes. “I’m probably scarred for life. It was almost as bad as walking in on my parents when I was eight.”
Despite trying to maintain a sympathetic expression, Jace started laughing. “Oh Luc, I’m so sorry. That’s terrible. Which friend speech do you need to hear? He wasn’t the right one for you, and there are other fish in the sea? They didn’t deserve you? Either of them? You’re better off without them? All goodbyes are just new hellos waiting to happen? Sometimes things happen for a reason?”
